Horripilation
by Raha
Summary: Harry is actually a girl. Uncle Vernon is really a pedophile. And Severus Snape is stuck with the aftermath. ON HIATUS
1. Pedophiles And Sex Changes

**Harry Potter **

**Horripilation **

**Chapter One: Pedophiles And Sex Changes**

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Harry was acutely uncomfortable at the fact that he was completely and utterly naked. Not given the circumstances, this was a very odd thing to be feeling whilst taking a morning shower. But given the circumstances, it was understandable, because his uncle Vernon Dursley was standing in the shower door, staring at him in complete and utter shock. Harry was frozen where he was, his heart throwing itself against his ribcage like a frenzied animal. His mouth was open in surprise, but no sound came out. 

Mr. Dursley did not speak either. His eyes slowly traveled down to Harry's chest, then lower still, and back up again to look Harry straight in the eye. Comprehension began to dawn on his red face, and then a slow, twisted, smile curled his lips. The horrible look—that warped, malicious, _hungry_ look—in the man's eyes told Harry his life as he knew it was over.

"Oh, am I going to _enjoy_ this…" he hissed, stepping into the shower and closing the door behind him, his hand fumbling with the fly of his pants.

-Oo-

It was about eight thirty in the evening when Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody apparated on the threshold of Number Four, Privet Drive. They were there for several reasons, the first being that Harry had not sent any word that he was doing well, and not suffering at the hands of his questionable guardians, for three days. In fact, he had not been in contact with _anyone_, so naturally the members of the Order, and particularly Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were getting worried.

The second reason was equally serious, if not more so. Exactly fifteen minutes and forty-two seconds ago, a massive magical outburst had occurred at Number Four. Dumbledore had immediately requested that Moody, and Tonks investigate, as they were the only two aurors present at such short notice, and that Lupin accompany them. If it had somehow been a Death Eater, then a couple of aurors would come in handy. And if, as was likely, Harry had just been pushed too far, again, then an old and familiar friend such as Lupin would help to calm him down.

"I'll bet his aunt's here," Tonks said, walking up to ring the doorbell. "I heard he blew her up once. Something like that probably happened again, Harry has been a bit touchy lately. And he probably just forgot to send a letter."

"He's been writing for the last few weeks, I don't see why he would stop now." Lupin pointed out, glancing up at Harry's darkened window.

"Maybe he's just been really stressed lately," Tonks said.

"So you're saying we should just forget about him, even though he may be in mortal danger in there, and go about our merry way?" Moody growled.

"No! I didn't mean it like that!" Tonks cried.

"Don't be so hard on her, Mad-Eye," Lupin said soothingly. "She's just reassuring herself he's okay, right Tonks?"

"Yeah," said Tonks. Moody snorted, and Tonks made a face at him when she was sure both his eyes weren't looking. Lupin suppressed a grin and rang the doorbell again.

"What's taking them so long to answer the bloody door?" Tonks said in exasperation after a minute of waiting. "Are they even home?"

"Their car isn't here," Moody observed.

"But the light's on…" Lupin said. The trio exchanged looks, then Moody pulled out his wand, pointed it at the keyhole, and with a muttered "Alohamora", turned the knob and made his way into the dim interior.

"Harry!" Tonks called out. "Hey, Harry! Where are you?"

"He's not in the kitchen," Lupin said, sticking his head through the kitchen door.

"He's in his room," Moody said, his magical eye pointed at the ceiling. "I think he's asleep."

"Hey, Harry, wake up!" Tonks called, taking the stairs two at a time, while the two men followed her at a more dignified pace. Then there was a loud thump, and the sound of Tonks' muffled cursing.

"What 'appened?" Moody asked, his voice a sharp bark, and his hand tightening on his wand.

"Oh, nothing, just when I tried to open the bloody door, it was bloody locked so I smacked my bloody nose…" Tonks growled as the men reached the landing.

"Wait, isn't this Harry's room?" Tonks said, stepping back a pace, still holding her nose. "Why on earth would he lock his door…? Alohamora!"

With that and a slow creak, the door swung open and the trio stepped into the dark interior.

"Oh, I can't see a thing," Tonks muttered. "Lumos!"

The light radiating from her wand threw warped, black shadows on the walls, and illuminated the figure lying in the middle of Harry's bed. He was on his back, vacant eyes staring up at the ceiling. Slowly, those bottomless, black deadened eyes rolled to gaze at the three standing in the door through wet, matted bangs.

"Harry?" Tonks said.

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, and slid first one leg, then the other off his bed and staggered upright. His baggy, dirty black shirt was disheveled and torn, and his overlarge pants (the cuffs were rolled up to his shins) were in no better shape. They just exaggerated the fact that he looked horribly thin. Harry's chest was heaving as he panted for breath, his hand gripping the edge of his desk to steady himself.

"Harry…" Lupin whispered sorrowfully at the sight before him. _It's never been this bad…_ he thought. _The Dursleys are going to pay for this_.

"_Let me out._" Harry said hoarsely, an edge of desperation and hysteria to his voice. "_Let me out of here."_

It was then that his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

"Harry!" Lupin yelled, running over to the boy and slipping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him upright. "Harry!"

"We have to get him to St. Mungo's!" Tonks cried, kneeling next to Harry. "Goddammit, how the hell could those stupid muggles let this happen! After we warned them! Ohhh, when I get my hands on them…" Tonks' tirade died in her throat at the look of bewildered shock on Lupin's face.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Lupin glanced at her, looked back at Harry, then took her hand and placed it on the boy's chest, much to Tonks's surprise.

"Uhhh…" she said, her face flushing scarlet. "Lupin, what…?" Then she stopped, feeling the soft swell beneath her palm. She squeezed. Thought for a moment. Then asked with the utmost of calmness, "Since when has Harry been a girl?"

-Oo-

Rubeus Hagrid, the Weasley family, and Hermione Granger all sat in dumb-founded shock as Tonks, Lupin, and Moody finished with their report on Harry.

"You're _joking_," said Fred Weasley finally, looking like Christmas had come early.

"He has… _breasts?_" George Weasley said eagerly.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley barked in outrage.

"What?" George cried.

"I didn't know Harry was such a pervert…" Fred snickered.

"What do you mean?" Ron gasped, still thunderstruck.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? He drank some sort of potion or other to get… uh… _extra appendages_ so he could feel himself up!"

"_Fred!_" Mrs. Weasley cried, appalled.

"Where is he?" asked a voice. Everyone looked up to see Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall standing in the doorway. The moment they set eyes on the headmaster, the color drained slowly from their faces in worry. There was something about Dumbledore's eyes that scared them, something awful.

"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore repeated, stepping into the room, his gaze burning.

"He… he's upstairs, in bed… asleep…" Mrs. Weasley said falteringly.

"Wake him. Now."

"Headmaster, we… we've tried to," Hermione piped in nervously, her eyes wide and frightened. "Harry won't wake up."

"He must wake up," Dumbledore insisted, his voice urgent. "This is important. Harry's uncle is dead."

There was dead silence for several seconds as they all absorbed this statement. And then…

"What! But _how_!"

"It was that magical burst the Ministry detected, wasn't it!"

"Was his house attacked!"

"It could'n a been You-Know-Who!"

"Oh, come on, who else could it have been?"

"It was not Voldemort," Dumbledore said, and everyone fell silent.

"But… if it wasn't You-Know-Who…" Mr. Weasley said uncertainly. "Then who…"

Suddenly he stopped, his eyes widening as the realization hit him, and he wordlessly shook his head.

"No…" he said hoarsely. "No, no, no…"

"What?" Ron cried, frightened. "Dad, what is it?"

"H-Headmaster, you don't mean…" Hermione whimpered quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh God, you can't mean… he _wouldn't_…"

"Who wouldn't!" Ron demanded. No one answered him.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, sinking into a chair.

"The… body. It was found in the bathroom… in pieces," he said quietly. Hermione let out a horrified gasp, and brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes clenched shut as she choked back tears. The blood had drained from the Weasley twins' faces. Mrs. Weasley had brought a hand to her face, and trembled. Hagrid sat very still in his chair, staring in shock at Dumbledore. Ginny jumped up from her seat and ran to her mother.

"Am I the only one who doesn't know what the hell is going on!" Ron yelled, leaping to his feet and staring wildly around the room.

"Mr. Weasley, please," McGonagall said sternly, though her face was very white.

"No, he has a right to be upset," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Ron, don't you see?" Hermione cried, her voice shaking uncontrollably, tears spilling from her eyes unchecked. "The _only_ person that could have killed Mr. Dursley was _HARRY!_"

_To be continued…_

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And it's a _very_ good thing.**

Well, that's the first chapter done. If you aren't comfortable with where this is going, (and believe me, it will go there) then I suggest you leave at once because it only gets worse from here, and I happen to be in a _very_ sick mood.

Also, to those of you who are familiar with my other story, _Tohru's Demons_, well hello there! Didn't see this one coming, did you? Anyway, I want to tell you about the original story of Ren and Artemis, posted on _www . fictionpress . com_ (just remove the spaces. Stupid FFN.) I would love to get feedback from you!

To those of you who don't know about _Tohru's Demons_, if you're familiar with the anime/manga _Fruits Basket_ by Natsuki Takaya then I suggest you read my fanfic on it. I'm told it's awesome.

And yes, I removed this for like five minutes to fix up some minor technical difficulties. Sorry.

Have a nice day!

-Raha-


	2. AMNESIA!

**Harry Potter **

**Horripilation **

**Chapter Two: AMNESIA!**

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Petunia Dursley was acutely aware of the fact that there were a bunch of wizards in her living room, and that each and every one of them looked every shade of pissed off. She sat very still in her chair, practically hanging off the edge, with her back ramrod straight and her hands clenched tight in her lap. She glanced furtively about from Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, and finally came to rest on a very intimidating Albus Dumbledore. She swallowed nervously.

"Well, go on," Dumbledore said quietly. "And remember, the Ministry of Magic will want to use _Veritaserum_ on you later, so I advise you tell the truth now. Otherwise, there will be repercussions." She nodded and looked at the floor.

"I…I have always known Harry was a…girl. Not even he—she—really knew, I was the only one. Lily had me sworn to secrecy, before that wizard blew her up. When she and her husband had the baby, they knew if anything happened to them…that the girl would come to us. But…but they didn't trust Vernon…"

"With good reason," Lupin snarled tightly, his fists clenched tight at his sides and his teeth bared. Petunia flinched and pursed her lips, but went on.

"They put Harry under some sort of spell to hide her gender from Vernon. Some years ago he…he was accused of…"

"Child molestation?" Snape provided coldly.

"Yes—but he was never found guilty…!"

"The fact still remains that your husband sexually abused an eight-year-old girl," McGonagall interrupted, and the room seemed to saturate with her fury. "Whether or not he was found guilty is _irrelevant_!"

"And now he's destroyed his own niece!" Lupin shouted.

"The little bitch probably asked for it—" Petunia snapped before Dumbledore suddenly moved in front of her, and the following slap resounded off the walls and throughout a shocked silence.

"Why was I not informed of that man's past actions?" Dumbledore demanded.

"An unfounded accusation isn't recorded…"

"Obviously," he said slowly, "The accusation _was_ founded. What do you know of the spell?"

"S-spell…?"

"The one that changed Harry's gender," Moody informed her, in a manner that quite effectively portrayed his complete disdain.

"Why did it fade?" McGonagall asked.

"I-I don't know…" Petunia whimpered. "I was told it would work indefinitely…"

"I see," said Dumbledore softly. "There will be no further questions, Mrs. Dursley. You will be later cross-examined under the influence of _Veritaserum_, but we are finished for now. As for Harry Potter, she will immediately be removed from your care and placed in a foster home from this day forth. Is that understood?"

Petunia nodded mutely, and the wizards filed out into the rain...

* * *

She awoke under a strange ceiling, in a strange room, in a strange bed. She supposed the place was decently furnished, though it smelled of medicine and everything felt sterile. There wasn't much color to the place, either. The ceiling she was staring at was a washed out sort of white, the walls were pale, her sheets were pallid, and although she couldn't see it right now, she'd bet the floor was the same.

"I see you've finally decided to join us, ah, _Miss_ Potter," sneered a silken voice somewhere to her left. She turned her head at the sound and stared groggily at the man seated in a chair next to her bed. He was actually rather handsome, she thought, in a dark and menacing sort of way. A black curtain of hair fell into his somewhat sallow face and piercing dark eyes. A set of robes the color of death draped across an apparently strong and muscular frame, but still managed to hide the fact that it was in need of nourishment and a good day's sleep.

Severus Snape set his book down and turned to give his hated enemy's _daughter_ a look that could have burned a hole six feet into the ground, as if all that had happened was entirely her fault. She simply blinked blearily back at him, then yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked thickly, feeling like her mouth was filled with cotton.

"You're at St. Mungo's Hospital. And before you ask, you've been asleep for four days," Snape said shortly, and rose as if to leave. A sudden, inexplicable panic seized her throat and without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his cloak.

"Wait! Don't leave!"

He turned sharply, a look of utter surprise on his face, and stared down at her hand. She let him go quickly and recoiled slightly, giving him an apologetic smile.

"I…I don't wanna be alone…" she explained sheepishly.

_What…?_ Snape's brows clinked together in confusion as he stepped up next to her bed, his heart sinking with apprehension like a lead stone.

"Potter…do you know who I am?" he asked slowly.

"No, I'm sorry," she replied, and cocked her head. "Potter—is that me?"

Snape stared at her hard, straight into those wide—almost trusting—eyes, surreptitiously prodding at her mind, and found nothing but sweet innocence. It was as if Harry's mind had been wiped clean, and where he had once been, there was nothing left but this stranger of a girl. It was as if the Boy-Who-Lived had never existed.

His first thought was that someone must have come in the night and _Obliviated_ Harry in order to cover up whatever foul dealings they'd been doing with the kid, but the only person he could think of that would want to do that was the boy's—girl's muggle uncle. However, the man now lay in peices amongst the worms. Really, the only one who would have wanted to forget anything was…Harry.

Snape glanced over at the little teenager sitting quietly on the bed, regarding him with a sort of patient expectance. Quickly, Snape did a deeper search on Harry, trying to find any remnants of the memory-wiping spell, and quite abruptly came up against a very big and very unbreakable wall just beyond the girl's preconscious mind. For a moment he just stood there, baffled and bewildered beyond measure.

_What the hell is this?_ He demanded irritably. _This isn't magic, it's an inner barrier, but Potter's never had so much as a picket fence let alone _a _barricade_ _this size! He _can't_ block me! _

_…Unless he's also blocked himself. _

And then the pieces suddenly fit. There was no magic present because no one had _Obliviated_ Harry's mind: Harry's mind had wiped _itself_. Snape had heard of cases like this, of people who contracted amnesia after some terrible trauma. Now, there was not a soul on earth who was getting past those gates, not even the greatest of Occlumens, save for Harry herself. But she'd locked something awful away, something she didn't want to be touched, and Snape doubted she would ever open that door again.

He sank down into the chair and put his head in hands. What a day this had turned out to be.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Your name is Harry Potter," Snape said, ignoring her question.

"Oh. Okay. What's your name?"

"You will call me Professor Snape," he replied, though it sounded more like an order than anything else. Somehow Harry doubted he even knew how to make a request. Then suddenly Snape sat up, opened his book, and tore out a page. Taking a pen from his pocket, he scrawled a quick note, folded it into a paper airplane and pulled a slender stick from another of the many folds in his robe. He gave the airplane a small tap, and to her amazement, it abruptly shot from his hand and flew out the window.

"Wow! How did you do _that_?" she cried, pointing out the door for emphasize.

"Magic," Professor Snape said tiredly, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, as if that were the end of the matter.

"What's magic?" Harry wanted to know, but Snape got to his feet and headed for the door. "Wait—where are you going? Stop…!"

"I'll just be outside!" he snapped. "Be quiet and sit still, someone will be in here shortly."

And with a swirl of his cloak he turned and swept out the room.

_To be continued…_

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**Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim all claims to Harry Potter. **

Sorry I haven't updated in forever, but you know how muses are. Actually, after I read the sixth book, all passion for the series kind of went down the toilet, so really it's _The__Half-blood Prince's _fault for being a killer of inspiration in all living things. And sorry this chapter was so short, but I decided it was high-time to update so here ya go.

Until next time,

Raha


	3. An Unexpected Development

**Harry Potter**

**Horripilation**

**Chapter Three: An Unexpected Development**

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Snape wanted to hex something so badly his wand was practically spitting sparks. Given the fact that it was stowed in his front pocket, this was not a good thing for it to do. If he had not been standing in the middle of a hallway right at the heart of St. Mungo's, he would have pulled it out, but something told him that doing so was probably not a very good idea. So instead he took a moment to calm himself and leaned against the wall near Harry's door, breathing deeply. Of all the times for the brat to wake up, she just _had _to pick the one moment he was in the room. If Dumbledore hadn't gone to the restroom right then, and if Snape hadn't happened to pass by…If he believed in fate, he would have cursed it to the ninth level of hell.

"Excuse me, sir? Can I help you with something?"

"Does it look like I need assistance?" he snapped at the young healer who dared to approach him. She backed off quick, as if he'd just slapped her. "Look…Just go fetch the Weasleys, in the waiting room. Tell them Mr. Potter is awake."

"Ah…_Harry_ Potter?" she asked, casting an eager look towards the girl's door.

"That is none of your concern," he replied coldly, moving to block her view and losing what little patience he had. "Now, if you please…"

"Y-yes sir," she stammered and hurried away. Snape let out a frustrated growl and sat down on a nearby bench. He'd kill for a stress-relieving elixir right about now, or even a cigarette; anything to take the edge off. The past few days had been absolute hell since the Order had "volunteered" him to scare off anyone who wanted a glimpse of Potter. He hated to think of what might happen if the Wizarding community found out Harry was really a Harriet—and had now thrown away her memory—but he had more important things to do than play babysitter, damn it!

_I wonder what the Dark Lord would do if he ever discovered the truth…?_ He thought suddenly. But the answer was too sick to imagine.

"Severus?"

Snape started and looked up to find Dumbledore standing before him, looking concerned and hovering like a worried hen.

"Headmaster," he said, rising quickly to his feet in one fluid motion.

"Harry…?"

"Is awake, sir. I trust you received my note?"

Dumbledore smiled gently and held up Snape's airplane. "Yes, and I came as quick as I could. So he's really….lost his memory."

"Yes, but I cannot say if it is permanent," the Potion's Master replied. "It may yet return—"

It was then that he was abruptly cut off as Harry's door flew open and the girl staggered out, hanging onto the handle to keep from falling over—not because she'd forgotten how to walk, but her legs were still too weak to support her. She must have killed herself trying to cross the five feet from her bed to the door.

She and Snape stared at one another for an instant before she threw her arms around his waist and latched on as if her life depended on it. Several different emotions hit him at once, the foremost being absolute bewilderment, but fury and disgust were hot on its heels.

His first reaction was both to shove her violently away and keep her hidden from any prying eyes, and the result was that his mind was thrown into a veritable maelstrom of confusion. Finally, he gripped her shoulders and roughly steered her back into her room, almost slamming the door on Dumbledore as he slipped in after them.

"_What…are…you…doing?"_ he hissed angrily through his teeth as he plunked her back down on the bed.

"I said I didn't want to be alone!" Harry cried, nearly in tears and clutching at her sheets in spasmodic fear, her eyes wide and fretful. "I _told_ you not to leave…!"

"I do _not_ take orders from you, Miss Potter, and you would do well to remember that!" Snape barked as his temper snapped. He was furious with the girl, but not as much as he was with himself. He should have _known_ not to leave an amnesia patient alone. In unfamiliar surroundings, in a strange body, and mind she didn't know, it was no surprise Harry had panicked. But he had been so shaken, and all he'd wanted was to get out of there…

"Severus, I think I can take it from here," Dumbledore said quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder and smiling. "I suggest you go home and get a good night's rest."

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape replied distractedly, although he barely knew Dumbledore had even spoken, and swept out as fast as he could without actually running. Dumbledore shook his head after the younger man and gingerly sat down next to his distraught charge.

"Hello, Harry," he said with a gentle smile.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, but you may call me Professor or Headmaster," he replied, and Harry thought his eyes looked very sad. "You've known me for a long time."

"I have?" she asked, her brow furrowed in distress when she couldn't remember.

"That's alright," Dumbledore said, as if he'd read her mind. She wouldn't be surprised if he had. "Severus informed me you'd forgotten much."

"You mean Professor Snape?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, hiding a grin. He didn't remember a time when Harry had willingly called Severus 'Professor' Snape without prompting. In fact, he would have laughed himself silly if Sybill Trelawney herself had prophesied Harry to hug the disagreeable Potion's Master.

"Can you do magic like Professor Snape?" Harry asked, snapping him out of his reverie. In answer, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and swished it through the air, producing a flock of blue and green butterflies that fluttered about the room before escaping out the open window. Harry was enthralled and smiled with a child-like innocence that wrenched at the old wizard's heart; it was strange to see such a look on the child's normally somber face.

"Could I learn to do that?" she asked him eagerly, and he nodded.

"You used to be able to do much more," he said. "You were a great wizard, just like your parents…"

"What are parents?"

Dumbledore was trying to figure out how to explain when the door burst open and a blur of brown curls dashed into the room and pounced on Harry in a matter of 0.6 seconds with an overjoyed squeal. The curls were soon followed by a mob of red hair, which quickly followed its example. It was all Dumbledore could do to get out of the way while still maintaining his dignity, and just in time, for it was not long before the bed was groaning in protest of their combined weight.

"Alright, you lot, get off there and give him some air!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from the doorway.

"You mean, give _her_ some air mum," Fred corrected cheekily as he extracted himself from the confusion of limbs and reached out to help his twin. Soon, the rest had followed and stood about grinning a bit awkwardly at their now female and very surprised friend.

"I'm sorry," Harry said breathlessly. "But…do I know you?"

_To be continued…_

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters therein. If I did the sixth book would not have sucked so much.**

Now that I think of it, the title has nothing to do with the story. Okay, I suppose at one point I figured it did, but now I can't remember why. I think I just thought that word was silly. Really, Horripilation isn't even a word. You look it up in the dictionary, you know what you'll find? Certainly not the definition for Horripilation because it won't be there….it doesn't _exist_, and neither does this story, and neither do you. So there.

Again, this was a short chapter, but I find smaller chunks are easier to edit and such. Plus I can update more often. Stay posted, and thanks for the awesome reviews!

Raha


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